Not a Picture Perfect Life (write your own line)

a/n: The follow-up to Bitter Hearts, by popular demand. Emma starts taking the tests for her GED while figuring out how to be friends (or more) with Killian.

Her and Killian reach a sort of peace that afternoon at the library and they spend about an hour working on math problems together. He doesn't push her for an explanation or ask her to come back to Social Psychology. Doesn't stop by the diner during her shifts on the weekend either. And Emma knows it's not because he's not interested, just that he had genuinely only gone looking for her so he could apologize and that the rest — where they go from here — is entirely up to her.

She knows where she'd like to go, she's just too stubborn and afraid to try. Part of her still doesn't believe that he could want her or that he won't throw her away. The other part wants to be more on her own first. Emma's never had the opportunity to build a life before, to build herself up on her own terms. And she knows that it would be so easy to lose herself in Killian. It's not that she thinks he's going to betray her like Neal, but she has to know that she can pick herself back up again if she gives in to the attraction building between them only for it to all fall apart.

The decision to wait isn't a test to see if he'll stick around, it's a challenge for her to rise to and be ready for.

The following Tuesday, Emma finishes her studying just before four o'clock, packs up her things, and slips into her usual seat next to him in the lecture hall as if the previous week had never happened. She may not be ready to date — may never be ready to date — but she can do this much, at least.

Killian smiles at her when she sits down and it makes her heart skip a beat, the way it lights up his face. Determined to push the flutters away, she holds out her hand.

"Friends?" she asks.

Killian's hand is warm in hers and he holds it a beat longer than she knows is necessary. "Aye, friends."

Things go pretty much back to normal after that. She sees Killian at lectures and he comes by Granny's once or twice a week as well. Sometimes he doesn't even do homework, just sits at the counter and keeps her company for an hour or two. Ruby teases her about him constantly, and it's hard to argue when Emma stares at his lips any time he's not looking at her.

(The worst is when he orders a hot chocolate, which he knows is her favourite, and the whipped cream sticks to his upper lip.)

(She's pretty sure he does it on purpose.)

It doesn't help that he's ratcheted up the flirting and innuendo. Which is just fine with her because she gives back as good as she gets. If she felt like their interactions before were weighed down by everything she was keeping from him, now there's a tension between them that has nothing to do with secrets and everything to do with their kiss. It's like a coiled spring that pulls tighter each time one of them comes close to the line she's drawn between them.

He doesn't ask her out though. Doesn't push her for anything more than she's willing to give. In return, Emma tries to open up more, to offer up more pieces of herself. Not Neal and prison and the baby she gave away — those mistakes were hers alone and are harder to voice than the ones she was subjected to growing up. But when she decided not to run she also made a promise to herself not to change topics if he asked about her past. She doesn't have to tell him everything, but she won't lie to him anymore.

Emma also makes an effort to go to him for help when she gets stuck in her math or science problems, though she's doing less of them now that her Reasoning Through Language Arts exam is fast approaching. Most of her time at the library is spent doing practice exams and honing her essay skills. By the time the exam comes around in early November (she has to miss a psychology lecture to write it) Emma is actually glad to be getting on with the tests after two months of preparation.

When she came to Boston she didn't think she'd be sitting in an exam room, tapping her pencil and waiting for the order to start. Didn't think she'd have a job and a place to sleep and at least one person that she can call a friend. But here she is.

Killian comes by the diner that night and gives her copies of his notes from the class she missed and they clink hot chocolates in celebration. Emma wraps her hands around the mug and sips carefully to hide her smile.

Boston's never been home. But she's starting think that maybe it could be.

Emma's alone out front, mopping up vomit for the second time in one night — Anton, the gentle giant of a night cook, had had to come out of the kitchen to help remove the rowdy group — when Killian comes into the diner. He looks as grim as she's ever seen him and immediately she remembers what he said he'd be doing today.

She touches his arm briefly as he walks up to her. "Hey, just let me put this away real quick."

He grunts in reply and this cannot be good — her ridiculous, wordy Killian being reduced to animal noises. Shaking her head at the thought of her Killian, she wheels the mop bucket away and washes her hands before heading back out. She starts to make a hot chocolate right away, topping it with cinnamon and adding a couple mini marshmallows for good measure.

"Belle agrees that the quality of my work is above the grade level on my transcript," he says without preamble as she sets the hot mug down in front of him. "She says she'll talk to him but there's no guarantee."

Belle French was Killian's TA in Social Psychology. A former English major, they'd apparently quickly bonded over literature and so when his grade had come in — not a fail, but a low enough pass to drag his GPA down and threaten his scholarship — he'd gone to her first.

Emma leans against the counter, tracing patterns idly on the aged laminate. "I still think you should have let me punch him in the face."

He rolls his eyes but she gets the smirk she was looking for. "But if you break his nose, it will be that much harder for you to sit in on another class next semester."

Killian pulls a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and opens it up flat on the counter to reveal a course schedule for the spring term.

"I don't have any electives this time," he says, smoothing out the creases, "But there's a world literature course we could do together. The readings are all centered on the oceans and there's a class trip to the Fine Arts museum."

He's sounding a bit more like his usual self — the hot chocolate must be taking effect, she thinks — and Emma chews her lip, hating herself for the words about to come out of her mouth.

"I wasn't planning on sitting in on another class," she says softly. His head snaps up and she watches his face carefully, trying to read the emotions there before he can lock them away.

"I really enjoyed Social Psychology," she continues, her eyes following his down to the schedule as he starts putting it away. "It's just… I want the next one to be real, you know?"

"Yeah. Right, of course."

His smile is fake and it tears at her but this is not her pulling away. It's just that she's had enough of other people's lies, doesn't want to start making up her own. Her life is getting better (slowly), but she can't pretend that it's some fairy tale where she gets to go to university and sit next to cute boys.

"I have news on that front, actually," she says, pulling out her own paper from under the counter and hoping the change of subject will brighten his mood once more.

He scans the sheet as she sets it down in front of him and his brows furrow but she can't keep the grin off her face.

"I gather this means you've passed then? What's a 179 mean?"

"200 is perfect. Anything above 150 is a pass and anything above 170 is honours."

Emma can see him doing the calculation quickly in his head. (She's not gonna lie, she did it too, but she used the calculator on Ruby's phone for it after being handed the envelope that had come in the mail earlier that day.)

"So that's like a 90%, then. That's excellent, love."

She blushes and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "It was just essay bullshitting."

"Ah, but it was honourable essay bullshitting."

She laughs, but the bell above the door chimes and she has to go hand out menus and pour coffee for a sandy-haired pair of twins that she's seen around before. (She's pretty sure Ruby dated one of them at some point, and thinks it's probably the one who leers at her.) (If anyone asks she barely snickers at all when his brother kicks him under the table.)

By the time she gets back Killian is reading her grade letter again and drumming his fingers against the counter top.

"So you're half done now, yeah?"

"Yeah," she says, slipping back behind the counter. The concept of being halfway there is exciting, and she's glad that it hasn't been so long that she would have to re-take the social studies exam on top of all the others.

"Math is next?"

Emma nods, grabbing a brownie from the display to nibble on. "I've got the test scheduled for just after New Year's, and Science less than a month after that."

"Well, I've got little else to do at the moment apart from work and disputing this grade, so if you want some help with either of them, just let me know."

He punctuates his offer by breaking off a corner of her snack and popping it into his mouth with a wink. Emma lets her mouth hang open in mock outrage and slaps his hand away when he goes for more.

"Just for that, I think I'm going to take you up on that."

Killian hands her back a corrected problem set and Emma curses under breath as she glances over the ones she got wrong. It's Christmas Break, and while most students are done for the year, she's still under the weight of her quickly approaching GED math test.

They've been at this for hours now and while she's still got the holidays to study through, math is by far her worst subject. When she decided to split up the tests instead of doing them all at once she knew she wanted to leave time to re-take it if necessary. Granny hasn't said what'll happen when her deadline comes and Emma hasn't brought it up, but the questions linger in her mind. If she doesn't have her GED by March, will she be kicked out? Have to pay back the rent for the six months she's been staying in the garage?

Emma presses her fingers into her temple in an effort to stem the headache that's threatening and looks up when Killian starts packing away their things.

"I'm calling it for the day," he says. "You should too. You look like you need some fresh air."

"You realize it's freezing out, right?" she says, but she slings her bag onto her shoulder and follows him out of the library anyway.

Winter hit fast and hard about a week ago and outside it feels more like the middle of January than December — all dark and biting cold. Emma never thought she'd wish for snow but right now she'd give her left hand for some; anything to soften the deep freeze.

She's betting Killian would agree if his grimace as they turn into the wind is anything to go by. Then again, it's his own fault for not dressing warmer. She might not have a winter coat but at least she's got a hat and gloves on.

"You headed home?" she asks.

"Aye. I've got a couple days off work now for the holiday. You?"

"I'm never off work." She nods down the street to where she's parked. "Come on, I'll drive you."

In the fall she would walk to the university but once the weather turned she started driving, partly just to make sure the bug was still running in the cold.

(This wouldn't have been an issue if she'd stayed in Tallahassee. It's weather like this that makes her think she should have gone west instead of north. Maybe someday, though someday feels increasingly far away.)

"How could I turn down a ride in your cheery vehicle?" he says as she slides in and leans over to unlock the door for him. The bug takes a couple of tries to start before finally coming to life and Killian winces. "I will actually get to ride in it, right?"

"It just needs to warm up a little." She cranks up the heat and aims the vents towards the windows to help it thaw. Emma's still got half a tank of gas, but if it doesn't get any warmer in the next few days she's going to have to fill up just in case.

"Where did you get it anyway? You don't see many older ones around."

She hesitates, a thousand possible answers running through her mind. He may not know about Neal, but he's not stupid. He knows she's got at least one bad relationship behind her.

(It scares her sometimes, the way he picks up on more than just the little pieces she drops. But she can read between his lines too and as much as she's not used to it, it can be nice not to have to spell everything out. To say the minimum and know he'll still understand.)

"Would you believe me if I said I won it in a breakup?" she finally settles on.

Killian leans back, slouching a little into his seat. "Well, that depends. If we were to date and then break up —" Emma raises an eyebrow at him and he hurries to add, "Not that either of those things are necessarily going to happen. But if they did, would I get the car?"

She smirks, shifting the bug into gear and pulling out into the street. "You'd have to steal it from me first."

He opens his mouth and even out of the corner of her eye she can see it, the realization that that wasn't just a line, that there's a story behind it.

"When are you flying home for Christmas?" she blurts out before he can follow-up on her remark.

Killian's mouth snaps shut and she's glad for how early it gets dark now that he can't see the red heating her cheeks.

"I'm not. Can't afford it this year. Liam wouldn't be around anyway, he's on tour still."

"Is Will staying in the city?" she asks, and she hopes he is, hopes that Killian won't have to spend the holidays alone in his apartment.

"Aye, at the moment. Ana might take him back to New York with her, though."

Emma nods and lets the conversation drop, wishing she hadn't brought it up and focusing on the road instead. She's done the chauffeur thing for him once or twice before so she knows the way but it gives her an excuse not to talk. Turning onto Commonwealth Avenue she taps a rhythm on the still-cold steering wheel and heads toward Brighton.

"You should come over," Killian says quietly, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "In the morning, after your shift. I was thinking about doing up a big breakfast — pancakes, bacon, the whole bit."

Emma's chest feels tight all of a sudden and she has to remind herself to breathe. "I don't… I'm not sure that's a good idea," she manages.

"It's only breakfast, Swan."

She exhales loud through her nose because it's not just breakfast, it's Christmas breakfast. And Christmas is a time for family and for people you love. She knows, because she's never had anyone for Christmas.

And she can't — she's not good at any of it. Her plan for the holidays was to sleep and wait for it to all be over. She can't just go over to his place like it's a perfectly normal thing. It's not a normal thing, and it would mean too much. Maybe not to him, but for as much as she's been trying to be friends with him she also has to keep him a bit at arm's length, knowing that she can't risk getting too attached. They still don't see each other outside of B.U. and Granny's because she doesn't trust herself not to get in too deep too fast.

She knows she's going to. It's only a matter of time before this thing simmering between them either boils over or he gets tired of waiting for it and leaves.

"I'm just not very good at Christmas," she says, checking her blind spot as Cambridge Street turns into Washington.

"I'm not inviting you over for gifts and caroling, love. Just breakfast."

"Yeah, well I'm not very good at that either."

He shifts in his seat and she thinks he's gotten the message, but apparently this is one of those rare times when he feels the need to push her. "Ah. I see I've crossed a line."

"Don't," she warns, "I'm not in the mood." But he keeps pressing.

"I said I was fine being friends, Emma, even though it's not what either of us want. But I gave my word and I'll honour it. What's it going to take to get you to trust me?"

Her fingers curl tightly around the steering wheel and damn it, she's angry now too. She's trying, he knows she's trying.

"Trust has to be earned," she grits out.

"Aye, it also has to be given. And you're too afraid. I'll tell you one thing, love, a person who doesn't fight for what they want deserves what they get."

She wants to scream. Wants to stomp away and cry, wants to punch him in the face. Of all times, why did he have to do this when she was driving? When she was trapped together with him and unable to walk away?

Emma thinks of Neal, who was ready to flee to Canada on his own until she talked him into letting her get the watches. She was the one who fought for them, and she was the one who lost everything. Was that what she deserved?

(She refuses to think of the battle that came next — the one that she surrendered because it couldn't be about her. The baby she couldn't even hold for fear of how badly she wanted him. Emma's never been one to back down, but not everything is as simple as he makes it sound.)

"I've only got enough for one fight at a time, Killian. I need it to be for something I can actually win."

They hit Oak Square and never has she been more glad for a conversation to be over. Turning onto Tremont, she pulls up across from his building and clenches her teeth as he grabs his bag from the backseat.

He opens the door to leave but stops before getting out. "I know what it feels like to lose hope, Emma, but you have to choose at some point," he says and he sounds resigned. "I'll walk this tightrope with you as long as you want, but you're going to have to let me in one day or this — whatever this is — is just going to fizzle out on its own."

His words sting, but they're nothing she doesn't already know. Still, she stares straight ahead through the windshield and refuses to look over at him. Finally, he sighs.

"Happy Christmas, Emma."

He's out of the car and about to close the door when she finds her voice again. "Merry Christmas, Killian."

She doesn't see him for days afterwards and soon it's Christmas Eve and her overnight shift is spent helping Granny, Ruby, and Anton prepare all the turkeys, veggies, and stuffings for families who otherwise wouldn't have a holiday meal. (She'll be eating her own dinner with the Lucases in just over twelve hours — Granny hadn't been willing to take no for an answer when she'd heard Emma's plans.)

By the time morning rolls around she's exhausted, but it's a good kind of exhausted. The ache in her feet and arms the kind that reminds her she can still do good things even when everything else crumbles around her. Tired, she unlocks the garage and bends to lift up the door when she notices a small package tucked into the corner, sheltered from the wind and snow. She picks it up and smiles to herself when she flicks the tag over to read, "To Emma — your friend, Killian."

Holding it under her arm, she opens the garage and turns on the lamp, sitting on the bed and carefully undoing the damp wrapping paper before she even takes her coat off. Emma sucks in a breath when she breaks the tape on the tiny white box, opening it to find a delicately braided friendship bracelet inside.

She traces it carefully, the strands of red and green and gold soft under her finger. She knows that he made it himself, that he didn't just buy it from some guy sitting on the floor of a subway station. It makes her smile to imagine him bent over the strings, following along to an internet tutorial with Will watching over his shoulder and mocking him.

She won't be able to tie it on by herself, so Emma places it carefully back in the box and sets it on her bedside table. Taking off her coat and boots and pulling pjs out of her suitcase, she slips into bed and makes a mental note to bring it with her when she goes over to Granny's for dinner. She wants to be wearing it when she goes to see Killian and apologize.

Closing her eyes, Emma lets herself dream of hope that isn't doomed to always be broken or taken away.

The diner is loud and bustling and Emma steps into the back for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. She has no idea how she got here. Actually, that's not true. It was definitely Ruby's fault.

One mention from her co-worker that she should bring "her B.U. guy" to the semi-private New Year's Eve party at the diner coupled with a remark by Killian when she saw him after Christmas that he and his friends still didn't have plans for New Year's and the invite had fallen out of her mouth before she could stop it. Seeing the way his face had lit up, she didn't have the heart to take it back. (Anyway, this is her holding up her end of the friendship. Opening herself up to seeing him more socially.)

Now she's in the middle of a party filled with his and Ruby's friends. The two groups mingle easily (Ruby in particular seems quite taken with Killian's med school buddy) but rather than feel like she doesn't fit with either of them, Emma's found herself acting as the bridge between them. Making introductions and talking to people as if they're her friends too.

And maybe they could be. Most of Ruby's people she's seen around the diner at some point and she met all of Killian's friends a couple months ago. (She pushes the memory of that night away. Thoughts in that vein are dangerous enough without her brain conjuring up the feeling of his lips pressed against hers.)

(It has not escaped her notice that it's New Year's Eve and that's exactly what you do when the clock strikes twelve.)

Technically speaking, she's working tonight so she has that as an excuse to slip away if need be. Granny's paying her to help host and entrusted her to end it the moment any liquor makes an appearance. Agreeing to this was her boss' way of controlling her granddaughter's partying, but it does something to her that the older woman trusts her enough to leave Emma essentially in charge for the night.

It's not like Ruby needs alcohol to have a good time, anyway. There's milkshakes and popcorn galore, tables have been cleared to make a dance floor, a jukebox is playing in the corner, and a couple of old arcade games have been brought in for entertainment.

That's exactly where she finds Killian when she slips back into the party. He's hunched over a Pac-Man game with both Robin and one of the twins (David, she thinks) watching from behind him, alternately yelling and thumping him on the back depending on how well he's doing. Emma rolls her eyes at the sight, but can't quite keep the smile off her face.

"Children, aren't they?"

She turns to find Tina standing next to her, wearing a tight green dress and with her hair up in a bun.

"Don't they usually say something about 'boys and toys?'" she replies, making her way over to the popcorn machine as the other girl follows.

"Something like that."

Emma scoops herself one of the little bags and pops a couple pieces in her mouth, tilting it towards the other blonde in offering.

She picks out a small handful, holding the popped kernels carefully in her palm. "So, what's going on with you and Killian?"

Emma closes her eyes for a moment in an effort not to roll them. "Straight to the point, huh?"
Tina shrugs and Emma doesn't want to be rude, but it's really not any of her business. It's not anyone's business except her's and Killian's and she doesn't even talk to him about it most of the time.

That's probably why she's being asked, really.

"Look, I know we're not exactly friends," Tina says before Emma has figured out a response. "But I've known Killian since I was ten, before his brother found him and took him back to England. And I have never seen him so dedicated and determined to be with someone."

Emma's hackles rise and she sets the popcorn aside, crossing her arms over her chest. "Is this you telling me to back off?"

"This is me telling you to step it up. Emma, Killian is a good guy and anyone with eyes can see how you two look at each other. What are you waiting for?"

She tries to sputter a reply but is saved by the music cutting out and Ruby calling everyone to gather around the tiny TV mounted in a corner of the diner. The channel flips to show Times Square and Emma crowds in with everyone else to watch as the ball starts its descent.

They're counting down the last seconds when she feels Killian's presence behind her, doesn't even have to look to know he's there.

And maybe she's not sure anymore what she's waiting for when it comes to him. Months ago she told herself she was waiting for life to get better, waiting for things to start coming together and hoping that she would feel like more than she was. (A thief, a drop-out, an orphan, the old refrain echoes.)

Now, surrounded by friendly and mostly-familiar faces as they all count down to the start of a new year, Emma thinks that maybe she's already found her fresh start. She's on the cusp of it still, but it's so close she can taste it. It makes her want to start her own countdown, down to the day she can turn that new leaf.

Emma doesn't kiss Killian at New Year's, but she turns to smile at him as the ball lights up and for the first time doesn't resist or resent the way her heart fills when he grins down at her.

Less than a week after New Year's she writes her math exam and two weeks later the letter comes that tells her she's passed. (Emma nearly has a heart attack when Ruby hands her the mail, convinced that the quick results mean bad news, but apparently the six week wait for her RLA grade was abnormal.)

Killian doesn't come to the diner that night, so she waits outside his literature class the next day and makes him pick a hand when he spots her in the hall. He chooses the one holding a hot chocolate and she holds up the paper with her grade on it as he takes a sip. He nearly chokes on the drink, then proceeds to almost spill it when he sweeps her into a hug. The 162 doesn't get her honours, but it's a solid pass and she wouldn't have been able to pull it off without his help.

Killian insists that they celebrate and they eventually settle on going to see a movie. It's the first time they've hung out together outside of Granny's or the library and it's startling how easy it is to cross the line she'd drawn between them. Almost to the point where Emma's not sure what she was so scared of before.

She drops him off at his apartment before heading back to the diner for her shift and Killian pauses with his hand on the door.

"Just one more then, yeah?"

Emma nods. "Next week. And then another few until I get the results."

"You'll do it. I know you will."

She doesn't want to jinx it, so she just smiles instead and lets herself soak in his belief in her. One fight at a time, she had said the last time she'd given him a ride home. Things are better between them now, but it's moments like this that make her think he knows exactly what it is she's waiting for.

Emma spends the next week studying for her science exam every spare moment she has. With only one test left until she can get her high school equivalency she feels more pressure than ever to pass. Killian joins her in the library when he has time and he's about the only one who can get her to stop working and take a break. (Not even Granny can get her to put the books away, her attempts to intimidate falling flat as Emma studies through her shifts whenever it's quiet.)

January is finally almost over when the big day comes and Emma gets to the exam hall obnoxiously early. The test is in the morning, so she took the night before off and attempted a regular sleep cycle but her nerves made sleep elusive and she has to rely on caffeine to get her through. Everything she's been working for is riding on this test, and while she can re-write it if she doesn't pass, she doesn't want to. She wants to be finished, and she's going to do everything in her power to get there.

Science is a stronger subject for her than math but that doesn't stop her from second guessing most of her answers. Emma takes the whole allowed time and is relieved when the order comes to stop. She drives back to the diner in a daze and crashes for the entire afternoon. When she heads into the diner for her shift, Killian is already there but she refuses to indulge he and Ruby in any premature celebration. She knows they're both rolling their eyes at her, but life taught her a long time ago not to take anything for granted.

That's exactly why she goes out of her way to spend time with Killian in the days following the test. She's got nothing left to study for — she doesn't need to be at B.U. — but she regularly meets him after class and listens to him ramble about how she absolutely should have sat in on his literature course, and he'll be happy to lend her his books when the semester's done, there's one in particular he's positive she'd enjoy, and he's not sure if museums are her thing but the class is going next weekend and would she like to tag along to that at least? Emma listens to him each time and is increasingly unable to keep the smile off her face. It would be so easy, but still…

Just once. Just with this one thing, she wants to be sure.

Emma really should have known that the universe would have a sense of humour when it came down to it.

It's early afternoon on Valentine's Day (she'd spent most of her shift the night before decorating the diner) and Emma is loading up the bug to head to the laundromat when Ruby calls her inside and shoves an envelope into her hands.

She knows what it is immediately and tries to keep from shaking as she tears it open and reads it over once and then again a second time. She's still processing it when Ruby gets tired of waiting.

"Well? What does it say?" she demands.

"It says…" Emma looks up to find both her and Granny watching her expectantly. She might never have done it without the push from her boss, but now, holding the confirmation in her hands, the diner is the last place she wants to be.

"It says I need the night off."

Ruby grins but Emma's eyes flick over to Granny, who crosses her arms over her chest. "And here I was just going to give you a raise."

She gapes at her. "I — what?"

The older woman huffs a laugh at her confusion. "Go. But tell that cute boy that if he wants to take you out next Valentine's Day, it can't just be spur of the moment when you're scheduled to work."

Emma blinks a couple of times, then gives up trying to think of a response and leaves, getting into her car and not even waiting for it to warm up properly before driving straight to Killian's. The grade notice sits on the empty seat next to her and she can't stop glancing over at it, needs to make sure that she's not dreaming the whole thing.

She finds parking just down from Killian's building and practically runs up the street. She knows he's home — he doesn't work on Mondays and his classes all finish in the morning. Plus, he'd specifically mentioned his lack of plans for today. She's in the foyer just as Will is heading out and he holds the inner door open for her.

"Finally decided to put puppy-dog eyes out of his misery, eh?" he teases and she rolls her eyes as she slows down.

"Thanks for holding the door," she says, refusing to rise to his bait and slipping inside.

"I'll tell Ana we'll have to go back to her place tonight then, shall I?"

This time Emma gives him the finger as she heads for the central stairwell and she can hear his laugh as her feet pound up the steps.

Killian lives on the second floor of the three-storey building and she only glanced quickly at the unit number as she came in so when she knocks she's more than a little worried about having picked the wrong apartment.

Her jaw drops when he answers the door.

"Don't tell me you forgot your bloody keys again," he says, the door opening to reveal a damp-haired, fresh-from-the-shower Killian dressed only in jeans, his shirt still in his hand. He stares at her dumbfounded when he realizes she's not Will and Emma immediately regrets not rehearsing this, not planning out what she was going to say on the way over.

At the rate her heart is going, it's going to beat right out of her chest before her brain can even think up the right words.

"Emma. Hi."

"Hi," she breathes.

And then words don't matter because she's kissing him. He grunts in surprise and stumbles back a half step but his hands catch her by the waist and she follows, arms winding around his neck as she chases his lips with hers. And he must have dropped his shirt on the ground at some point because she can feel both of his hands against her back, fingers spread wide like he wants to hold as much of her as he can. It feels just like their first kiss and so much better at the same time because it's not a one-time thing anymore. She can have this. Have him.

Emma's not sure who breaks the kiss, but their chests are both heaving by the end of it and she takes a moment to just breathe him in, her forehead resting lightly against his.

She's got to find out what soap he uses. And then make sure that it never, ever gets discontinued.

"I got my GED," she says finally.

He pulls back a little to smile at her. "Congratulations."

"I just… I wanted to thank you." Hesitation flashes across his features and she rushes to add, "And to ask you to dinner."

Killian face breaks into a grin and she blushes, unable to do anything but smile back.

"I doubt we'll be able to get a reservation anywhere tonight," he says. "But I'm sure I can figure something out."

"You? I asked, shouldn't I get to plan?"

He winks at her teasing and adjust his arms around her. "I'm sure you know how to plan a date, Swan, but I've been thinking about this one for a while now. Indulge me."

Trust me, he's saying. And God help her, but she does.

"Sure. What the hell."